


An Afternoon with Friends

by Emilys_List



Category: The Hour
Genre: F/M, Gen, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilys_List/pseuds/Emilys_List
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freddie, Bel, and Lix share an afternoon of cocktails and conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Afternoon with Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BluWacky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluWacky/gifts).



Bel opens the door to Lix standing there reading the paper, folded into a small rectangle, small smudges of newsprint on her hand. It takes her just a second to move her eyes from paper to Bel's face, but when she does her expression brightens considerably. 

"Darling," Lix says soothingly, and leans in to give her a strong embrace. Bel's eyes float closed, her body immediately relaxing to be in Lix's arms. Lix pulls back abruptly, though, and her eyes fall to Bel's midsection. "Darling," she says again, addressing Bel's abdomen, "I knew you were pregnant, but not this pregnant."

Bel huffs. "Pregnancy is a binary state."

Lix waves that away, her eyes pulling up now to meet Bel's gaze. "You're large, dear, it's just a shock when I'm used to you being such a slight thing."

Bel winces. 'Large.' Her hormones make her dreadfully uneven, and as such she'd like to show Lix the door even before she's come inside, but she smiles and invites her friend in. 

The flat is nothing fancy. It's at garden level, which is lovely in the spring, and it's plenty large enough to accommodate their new arrival. The walls are plaster painted white, the floors are wide wood planks, and the furniture is a jumbled mess of whatever they'd merged from their two homes. It's not fit for the pages of _Ideal Home_ , but it's their ideal home. She'd said that to Freddie one day, but he'd frowned at her, as if to say, 'You can do better, Moneypenny.'

Freddie is sitting at the window, at his desk, banging away on the typewriter until he notices Lix has come in. He grins. "If it isn't my old foe," he teases. He wheels away from the desk in his wheelchair and approaches Lix, pulling her down to kiss her cheek. 

Since Bel spends all her time with Freddie, she forgets that some people are jarred by his chair, or by the scars in his face. Not because they or Lix are made nervous by such things in general, but because they are unusual in relation to Freddie, known for his vitality and vigor. Lix is a champion, and the expression on her face is only there for but a moment, but Bel still sees it come and go. “My darling,” she says to him, cradling one cheek in her hand. They share a look between them as if Bel isn’t in the room, and she recalls the fact Freddie had shared, that he and Lix had once shared more than a look. It doesn’t bother her, nor should it, but watching this moment is making her itchy. 

She escapes to the kitchen to collect her cigarettes, and lights one deftly, her fingers grasping her father’s lighter. It’s one of the only things she has left of him, sad as that is. She slides the lighter into the pocket of her dress. “Lix?” She calls. “A drink?”

Lix appears in the doorway, with Freddie close behind. “Of course. What are you having?” 

Bel frowns, because just then the baby kicks. She rubs at the spot, hoping to soothe and admonish. “I’m having wine, but we have a range here,” she says, gesturing with her cigarette to their modest bar offerings. 

Lix looks it over, but almost immediately decides, “Whisky, ice. I’m a simple girl, you know that.”

“I’ll make,” Freddie offers, and Bel teases him, “No, you sit,” and Lix, surprisingly, looks horrified. Bel takes some glee in that as Freddie prepares her drink. “If you don’t laugh at it,” Bel says, “then it takes out all the fun.”

“Yes, I’d think there’d be nothing more fun than someone in a wheelchair,” Lix says brittly. “Thank you, darling,” she says, accepting the drink. They troop back out and they sit, Freddie wheeling in next to Bel’s chair, his hand on her knee. He can’t help but touch her all the time, ever since they found out. ‘He’s driving her mad’ is the public facade but in truth she loves it. Hands all over her, hands she never wanted then never thought she’d have again. She gives him the quickest of smiles and turns back to their friend. “I feel as though I should apologize,” Lix says, her fingers drumming on her knee. “I haven’t been to see you since Freddie was in hospital.”

“You mustn’t feel bad,” Freddie says. He shifts in his chair and Bel grabs for a pillow for him. “You were on assignment for _The Economist_. These things happen.”

“So they do,” Lix says, taking a long sip from her glass. “You go away for half a year and people go and get pregnant.” She cracks a smile. “What happened, exactly? Your doctors declared you ready to go home and Bel climbed on top?” Bel purses her lips. Essentially, that’s what happened. Lix smiles, though the corners of her mouth are pulling down when she does. “Well, it’s truly great news. You’re both obsessive people, you’ll be dedicated parents.” She clears her throat. “I was just reading that the Church of England has gone and given its assent to contraception. In case that’s what was holding you back,” she says, deadpan. 

“It’s the right thing,” Freddie says. “You shouldn’t have these oligarchies in religion dictating behavior.” 

“But that’s what religion has always been for,” Lix argues. “I agree it’s the right thing, but if one tries to live a life within the dictates of the Anglican church, it’ll be a sadly dictated life. People should be making their own ill-conceived decisions on when to use contraception.”

Bel sips her wine with one soft hand at her belly. “There are mornings when I wish I’d had contraception within reach,” she grouses, and Freddie lightly thumps his hand against her leg. “For those that do follow to the letter, though, having that approval could mean one less bad decision when your parents aren’t home and you’re alone in the flat.”

Lix snorts. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” 

“Well,” Bel says, trailing off, because she is.

“I wasn’t on assignment,” Lix says. “I -” She takes another sip from her drink and she’s almost done. When she looks back to them, her eyes are glistening with tears. “I hate - feeling like this when I’m so pleased for you two.” She looks as if she forces a smile on her face. 

Bel and Freddie share a look, but by the looks of it neither knows what’s going on. They turn back to Lix.

“Darling?” Bel says. “What’s wrong?” She’s practically out of her seat.

Lix wipes at her eyes with two firm hands and takes a deep breath. Suddenly the outpouring of emotion is gone, replaced with calm and a reporter’s heart. “I had a child about twenty years ago, in Spain, while I was working, and I gave her up.” She shakes her head. “I had to - tie up loose ends. That’s where I was.”

Bel senses that she doesn’t want to say any more, or much more than that, and so she only follows up this shocking news to ask, “And did you?”

Lix looks like she weighs this question, nodding slightly, but then her chin juts out as if in defiance, of what Bel isn’t sure. “I wish I wasn’t in the company of two journalists right now.” Her chin falls but her gaze meets theirs. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, it isn’t - look, just give us a cigarette and tell me you’re going to name your child after me.”

Freddie moves to her side, fishing his pack from his trouser pocket. He lights her cigarette. “I swear to you I won’t do that.” She cracks a smile and he’s the one to touch her cheek now. He looks back to Bel with a smile.

Lix exhales smoke and leans forward. “Look, it doesn’t matter why I was away. We needn’t dissect this any more.” Her face looks strong, determined. Bel has so many questions for her old friend, but she’ll have to wait. “I’m looking forward to taking the helm of the ship while you’re away gestating.” 

Bel rolls her eyes. “Don’t get too comfortable. Once I give birth, Freddie here will be our bundle’s nanny, and I’ll be back to steer.”

Lix looks to Freddie and he nods emphatically. “I can’t wait. For the bottles, the nappies. I’ll type with one hand and swaddle with the other.”

Bel grins. “We’ll have a nanny within a month.” She looks at Lix, tired and weighted, and thinks she must look quite the same - but still she’s hopeful for the future, and she hopes Lix is, too. She moves to her feet and looks for her sheaf of papers, the outline of how she wants things to run while she’s away. “Let’s get to work,” she says, searching for a pen.

/end.


End file.
